


Sam Winchester Has No Regrets

by MSpataro210



Series: Season 12 Inspired [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x10, Coda, Confident Cas, Dean and Cas are fighting, Flustered Dean, Idiots in Love, Lack of Communication, Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets, M/M, Sam Does Something About It, Sam Knows, Sam Ships It, Sam is fed up, Tipsy Dean, Trouble In Paradise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9578957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MSpataro210/pseuds/MSpataro210
Summary: A few missing* (made-up) scenes about what Sam was going through while Dean and Cas were fighting, and how over he was with it.  But not just their bickering, the whole 'will they or won't they' thing they've been doing for years.  Dancing around each other while Sam toughed it out.  But sometimes a guy reaches his breaking point, and has enough.Coda to 12x10





	

**Author's Note:**

> Had the idea for this a few hours after the airing of the ep, but didn't have the motivation to write it out till now. Hope y'all enjoy!

            It’s stuffy, in the Impala.

            Usually, Sam would roll down the window when this happens. Let the wind rush in and play with his hair.

            Or maybe put on some music. Have the power chords of Dean’s hair metal blast in the small space and distract them from it all.

            Hell, all it would take is a few words to take his mind off of everything.

            But a few words could get him kicked out of the Impala and out into road: while the car was still driving to boot.

            Sam looks out of the corner of his eye to look at Dean, and then shifts a bit to get a good view of Cas. Dean’s staring straight ahead of him, one of the only times he has his complete focus on the road. Granted, from the way he’s gripping the wheel, Sam knows his mind is on anything but driving. And Cas, unlike Dean, is looking anywhere but in front of him. His eyes always roam back over Dean every few seconds, but soon enough he’s looking in the opposite direction, a small sigh escaping his lips.

            Sam wants to scream.

            He puts his tongue in his cheek and bites down, looking out the window. He takes a deep breath in and out through his nose, physically shrinking into his seat.

            Their fighting is driving him nuts.

            After discussing Benjamin and any… _possibilities_ that warranted his call, the two had lapsed back into their silence.

            It was the loudest silence Sam has ever been involved in.

            Even though no one was saying a word, Sam can hear it all. All the things unsaid that just… hang. That haunts the space between his brother and his friend. Things that have been gathering dust, untouched since the moment they were thought of, words from even before Billie’s death.

            ‘ _And I thought the tension was bad when they **weren’t** fighting_.”

            Sam deflates some more and lets out a defeated sigh.

            “What?”

            Sam blinks, turning to Cas first, then Dean.

            They had both spoken at the same time, and from their reproachful looks, didn’t care for the serendipity.

            “Huh?”

            “You got something to say?” Dean grunts out, glancing over at him, fingers tightening even more across the wheel. Cas rolls his eyes at Dean’s tone, but keeps his body angled towards Sam, ears piqued at what he has to say.

            Sam squints, and bites his lip. He does have something to say. In fact, he has a lot he wants to say.

            Maybe start with how Dean and Cas should quit acting like babies and talk things out. How he’s noticed the little things: the touches, the stares, and the smiles. How he thinks they’ve been idiots for too long and should just… should…

            “Nothing,” Sam says, looking away, “Just breathing.”

            “Good.”

* * *

 

            Isham left the seat cold.

            Sam focuses on this instead of the couple in front of him. Or should he say the _not_ -couple. Because you’d have to be in a relationship to be a couple, right?

            And these two would have to get their heads out of their assess for that to happen.

            ‘ _The seat_ ,’ Sam thinks, looking at his clasped hands, ‘ _Focus, Sam_.’

            It’s hard to do so with their bickering, voices louder than his own inner one.

            “-just saying if you let people walk all over you-“

            “Are you suggesting I’m a doormat, Dean?”

            “If the shoe fits.”

            “Does the shoe also fit up your ass or would you like me to test?”

            Dean gasps, eyes widening, “You wouldn’t!”

            “I’d say ‘I would’,” Cas looks away, playing with the money on the table, “but doormats don’t usually speak.”

            “Sam!” Dean turns to him, “Did you hear that?”

            “What?” Sam asks, picking his head up, “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

            He was. He just doesn’t have the energy to get involved.

            “Unbelievable,” Dean mutters, shaking his head, “Even my own flesh and blood has turned against me.”

            “Dean-“

            “I’m gonna get that pie,” Dean says, grabbing the money out of Cas’s hand. If he lets his hand linger a beat too long over Cas’s, squeezes a bit more than necessary, no one mentions it.

            Sam watches as Dean struts towards the counter, hips wiggling more than usual. He turns back to Cas, who is pointedly trying to ignore Dean’s theatrics. He stares at his hands, a flush rising up his skin.

            “You okay there Cas?” Sam asks, smirking, a quirk in his brow.

            “No,” he says, eyes down, “your brother is just so… _infuriating_. I could just… I could…”

            ‘ _Hug him? Kiss him?’_ Sam thinks, ‘ _Other things I dare not think?’_

            “Strangle him,” Cas finally says, looking up to where Dean leans on the counter, smiling cheekily at the waitress.

            Sam turns to look at Dean, too. Just as Dean turns to look back at them. The waitress is cutting a piece of the pie, distracted, giving Dean enough time to send a wink and a flash of teeth at them. Soon enough he’s back to talking with the waitress, a piece of pie and something else in his hand.

            Sam looks to Cas, who has the edge of the table in a death-lock.

            Sam coughs.

            “What?” Cas rounds on him, lightning in his eyes.

            “Uh,” Sam reels back, the joke in his head evaporating, “n-nothing.”

            “Tell Dean that when he is done with his… _pie_ , that I will be outside.” He doesn’t say goodbye, the _woosh_ of his trench coat the only thing that follows his exit.

            Dean comes back, the smile falling off his face as Cas exits the diner. He slumps into his seat.

            “You good?” Sam asks.

            “Yeah, yeah,” Dean answers, distractedly. He picks up the fork and takes a bite of the pie, only for him to put it back down after.

            “What?”

            “Nothing, just… lost my appetite.”

            Sam’s eyes widen. Dean looks away as he pushes the pie towards Sam.

            “Finish this off for me, I’d feel bad.”

            Sam doesn’t say anything. He grabs the fork and takes his own bite of the pie and-

            ‘ _Wow.’_

            Sam’s never been a huge fan of pie but this… this is fantastic. The crust golden and flaky, and the filling is fresh even at this hour. It’s even Dean’s favorite flavor. He looks up at Dean as he tries to stifle his moan. Dean isn’t paying attention to him, looking over his shoulder, out the window, every few seconds.

            Sam takes another bite, rolling his eyes.

            ‘ _Idiots_.’ 

* * *

 

            Sam fiddles with his phone every few seconds. He stares at it, hoping Dean or even Cas’s name would pop up. But knowing that if Cas failed to answer Dean’s call, even during their fight, that something really must be up.

            “You really care for this angel?”

            Sam looks up, meeting her inquisitive gaze with one of his own.

            “Of course,” Sam scoffs, “He’s family.”

            “Funny…”

            “What?” Sam asks, bristling. He stands up a bit straighter.

            “Nothing just,” Lily chuckles, “the irony-even after a hundred years I’m glad I can still find some enjoyment out of life.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Castiel,” she explains, “how far he is from the angel I met all those years ago. How he can call ‘loving humanity’ a crime in one century and, in the next, be guilty of the very same thing.”

            “A lot can happen in a century,” Sam shrugs, “people-even angels-can change.”

            “Not the angels I know,” Lily says darkly, looking away.

            “Ishim, if what you said was true, will pay for his crimes.”

            “Will he?” Lily asks, “I mean, even if you kill him, will they know?”

            “Who’re ‘they’?”

            “Heaven,” Lily smiles sadly, “Will Heaven know their soldier was nothing more than a _coward_?”

            “We’ll make sure of it,” Sam promises her.

            “Thank you,” Lily says. She’s quiet for a few seconds before she speaks again. “How boys like you could have ever gotten involved with creatures such as _angels_ …”

            “Well, it’s not like we asked to,” Sam tells her, “it just sort of… happened. But, even though most of them can be real _dicks_ , there are some good ones out there.”

            “Like Castiel.”

            “Exactly.”

            “What is he to you?” Lily asks, “I know you keep saying family but… that is too vague.”

            “Cas? He’s like a brother,” Sam smiles, talking easily “Always there for us, ready to help. Sure, he’s made a few mistakes along the way but… haven’t we all? In the end, he’s proven time and time again that he’s just trying to do what’s right. And that he cares for us just like we care for him.”

            “Does he?”

            “Does he what?”

            “Care for you?”

            “Of course,” Sam says, “Maybe a little more for my brother than for me but… well, that bond has always been a bit more _profound_ then ours.”

            “I see…”

            Sam blanches, realizing what he just said. He curses to himself.

            “I mean,” he coughs, continuing, “they’ve always been a bit closer.” He keeps digging, “The best of friends, they are-and-and nothing more.”

            “You are terrible at this.”

            Sam sighs.

            “If it’s any consolation, I already had a feeling about the true nature of their relationship.”

            Sam looks up, staring at Lily. His slack-jawed face is parallel to her knowing smirk.

            “You did?”

            “I’ve always had a knack for reading people,” she shrugs, “but it didn’t take much to see just how much your brother cares for Castiel.”

            “I know-“

            “But,” Lily interrupts, “a little warning from someone who knows what it’s like to have caught an angel’s fancy. It might seem… wonderful, at first. But sooner or later, they always end up ruining things. Even if they have the best intentions.”

            She gets up, smoothing out the creases in her pants.

            “We should probably get going,” she says, “your brother and Castiel are probably going to need our help.”

            Sam doesn’t argue, even though every muscle in his body wants to defend Castiel to this woman. He knows it won’t do any good if he wastes their time while they could actually be defending his friend, so he follows her to her car.

* * *

 

            Sam is walking back towards the war room, his phone in hand. He had forgotten a book there he wanted to read before bed, and is venturing back to get it. However he slows when he hears voices coming from the room.

            “You should really get some sleep.”

            Sam stills against the corner of the hallway, peeking around it to see what’s going on. Cas is sitting where he was from earlier, yet Dean has moved closer. He has four bottles of beer near him, and his body looks looser. He’s leaning against the table, staring at Cas.

            “’M not that tired,” Dean yawns, looking away. He taps at the table in an erratic rhythm.

            “Dean-“

            “I’m sorry, y’know.”

            Both Sam and Cas are caught off guard. Sam leans in closer while Cas’s face just starts to burn up.

            “Dean, I-you already apologized,” Cas says, “I understand you are worried-“

            “’M always worried about you, dumbass,” Dean says, “always risking your life for me-for us.”

            “I learned from the best,” Cas smiles, patting Dean on the shoulder. He leaves his hand there.

            Dean looks back at Cas. His own face is flush, and he fiddles with his bottom lip.

            “Cas, can I ask you something?”

            “Of course.”

            “Why do you stay?”

            “I beg your pardon?”

            “I mean,” Dean continues, “you could be anywhere-do anything with your life. Whether it’s going back up and leading Heaven or travelling the world helping people… why stay here with us. With-yeah, with us?”

            Sam rolls his eyes at his brother’s self-deprecating tendencies.

            ‘ _Must be that time of night.’_

            Cas sighs and moves in closer to Dean.

            “Dean, I stay because here is where I belong. There is nowhere else I can do the most good then by your side and… well, as I said before, I care about _you_ too much.”

            Dean stares at Cas, and vice versa. Sam can see Dean’s eyes flicker down to Cas’s lips then back up again. He feels hope spring up in chest, and he leans forward. But then it dies as Dean ruins it by moving a bit back.

            “Thanks-thank you, Cas,” Dean laughs, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck, “I needed that. Sometimes the alcohol just brings out the self-hatred and, well…”

            ‘ _That’s it_ ,’ Sam thinks, _‘I can’t take it_.’

            Sam pulls up Dean’s contact on his phone and types out a quick message. He hits send, and waits.

            Sam can see Dean pick up his phone a few seconds later. It takes awhile for him to open the message, the alcohol clearly affecting him more than he lets on. But Sam knows Dean got the message when he sits up, ramrod straight, phone flying to his lap. He snickers at the serious blush Dean worked up.

            “What is it?” Cas asks, disturbed by Dean’s sudden shift.

            “Uh-nothing.”

            “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Cas counters, looking at Dean’s phone, “Who was it?”

            “Sammy,” Dean says, “He was just-well, he-funny story but…”

            “I’m waiting.”

            “He was just asking me where the ketchup was!”

            “What?”

            ‘ _What_?’

            “What?”

            “Why are you saying what?” Castiel asks.

            “Because you said what.” Dean defends himself.

            “That still doesn’t explain why Sam would want to know where the ketchup is,” Cas fires back, eyebrow raised, “at this hour, too.”

            “Because he wants a snack-I don’t know!” Dean says, rising, “Look, I have to go find Sam and show him just exactly where we keep the ketchup, and-you know what-maybe I will go to sleep because suddenly- _yawn_ -I feel very tired-“

            Cas grabs at Dean’s wrist before he could move any forward.

            “Dean you are acting strange and-“

            Cas looks away, over to his own phone. The screen is lit up, and he sees the message notification being displayed. He grabs it before Dean could. Dean just stands there, frozen. Cas opens his phone and reads the message.

            He smiles, and looks up at Dean.

            “Sam doesn’t need ketchup, does he?”

            “Uh…”

            Castiel rises, Dean following him with his eyes.

            “You know what made me such a good soldier, Dean?” he asks, voice an octave lower than usual. The scratchy tone did things to Dean, like taking away his ability to speak.

            It takes a few tries, but Dean manages a weak ‘What?’ through dry lips.

            “Because I knew when to take orders without question.”

            Then he grabs Dean’s face and pulls him in for a kiss. That’s all Dean needs before he throws himself into it at full force. He wraps his arms around Cas’s waist as Cas moves his hands forward to wrap his arms around Dean’s shoulders. They stay like that for awhile, Cas pushing Dean up against the table.

            Sam smiles at them, happy that they’re finally together.

            Then he’s upset that he won’t be able to get his book.

            Then mad when he sees Cas clear the table before pushing Dean back onto it, pulling at his brother’s shirt while Dean moves his hands to Cas’s zip-

            And then-well, Sam turns on his heel before he scars himself for life. He walks away, briskly, back towards his room.

            “I don’t need to read,” he reasons, “besides, nothing wastes time like bleaching eyeballs.”

            He’ll feel happy and proud tomorrow. Right after he’s wiped everything after the first kiss from his memory.

            Including the sounds he can hear from even behind his bedroom’s very _thick_ walls.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Drop a kudos or a comment!


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